


The many names of Amanda Brotzman

by Shihachii



Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-11
Updated: 2018-07-11
Packaged: 2019-06-08 19:35:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 755
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15250518
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Shihachii/pseuds/Shihachii
Summary: Amanda ruminates on the many different names she's had in the past.





	The many names of Amanda Brotzman

**Author's Note:**

> This is inspired by [thatfaerieprincess](https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatfaerieprincess)!! It's just a short piece but I hope you enjoy regardless!

She had many names, each name spoken with a different tone, the slightest of inflections revealing what the speaker thought of her. To Todd, to her parents, the ones she barely saw anymore, she was Amanda. This name was spoken with a loving, sometimes exasperated tone. The familiarity with which it was said aloud made her yearn for the simpler times, for the times when she didn’t have to be closeted in an empty house, alone, fearing the attacks each day brought.

To the few friends she’d had before her illness got so bad she had to stay indoors all day, she was Brotz. This name had been shouted over crowded school halls, had been breathed into her ear by the one guy who claimed he loved her. His devotion was borderline stalkerish and she didn’t mind it when he stopped calling her.

She was Miss Brotzman, said in a patronising tone, to the doctors who treated her like a 9-year-old kid, explaining her pills and their effects on her using small words, as if she wouldn’t be able to understand longer ones. The name Miss Brotzman made her feel small, stupid. It was a name she hated beyond belief. It tied her to her illness and were she to remain Miss Brotzman, she knew she would always be the frightened girl, terrorised by her illness.

When the peculiar things started happening, a change came with it. She became Amanda again, Dirk’s endless enthusiasm and positivity making her smile every moment she saw him. He spoke her name with warmth, with excitement, like she was the person he looked forward to meeting most. Along with Dirk came Farah, whose strength and capability made her feel safe, whose calm voice made her feel like she could be in control of the situation, who made Amanda feel like she was of use, like she could help.

Then there were the rowdies. Crashing and smashing into her life, they offered her a place in their midst, they offered her their hands. And she’d taken those hands gratefully. They called her Drummer, naming her for the instrument they’d seen her play, for the intense attitude she showed. She was their Drummer, the only musician in their punk band of psychic vampires. She loved them for it. She could leave the downtrodden Miss Brotzman behind, leave behind the unconfident, awkward Brotz. She could start anew.

Then Blackwing swooped in, stealing three of their group. She had to become someone new, had to step up and lead Vogel, keep him safe and try rescue the others. She became Boss, the little guy with caked on eyeliner and questionable hygiene but all that didn’t matter. Boss was strong, capable, scared but she tried not to show it to Vogel, who placed all his trust in her.

Even after they had rescued the other three, had been reunited with whoops and strong hugs, Vogel clung to his brothers and refused to let go, terrified of losing them again. Amanda was still Boss to him and was becoming Boss to the others as well. She had to be tough, she had to be, for their sake.

It was as she sat there, staring at the fire, absentmindedly picking at her nails as she thought, that Martin gave her her new name. He sat beside her, getting comfortable on the moss-covered log. They sat in silence, both staring at the fire. Inching closer to her, he let his knee knock into hers, resting it against hers and keeping his eyes focused on the fire.

“What you thinkin’, Amanda?” His voice is a quiet whisper, her name ending on a growl as was usual with his Southern drawling accent.

Was it truly a new name? Not really. What he was doing was making her name, the first one she had, more special. He was giving it back to her, free of any connotations. He was freeing her, freeing her from being Boss, the strong leader. Freeing her from being Amanda, the sister and daughter.

She was now Amanda, member of the Rowdy three. She was Amanda, treasured sister of a punk band of homeless magic men. She was Amanda, beloved by her rowdies five.

Without a word, she turned and wrapped her arms around his neck, feeling him lean into her touch. She could feel his hand curl around the inside of her thigh, feel him breathing deeply, getting closer to her and eliminating any remaining distance between them.

She was _Amanda_. Amanda, beloved by Martin.


End file.
